


Never Again

by larana-en (larana)



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, future!fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-12
Updated: 2014-04-12
Packaged: 2018-01-19 02:13:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1451671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/larana/pseuds/larana-en
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Podrick,” Jaime said, stopping his incoherent babbling, “What are you trying to say?”<br/>“Captain Sullas says there was a storm on the Narrow Sea.”<br/>Jaime shrugged. “So?”<br/>“My lord, it was where lady Brienne went to rescue her men.”</p><p>He froze. He felt his blood turning to ice in his veins, stopping every rational process.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Again

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, this is my very first attempt to write some english stuff about Jaime and Brienne.  
> Unfortunately, english is not my mother tongue, so if you'll find some mistake, well, forgive me :3  
> And a very special thanks to Geilie, my lovable, patient beta <3

_And I forgive you_   
_For being away for far too long._  
  


 

 

He ran his fingers through his hair, sighing harshly.

That was the fourth dawn that found him not sleeping, tired but not resigned. He would look for her until his last breath, until the pain in his girl’s eyes was gone. If he closed his eyes, he could still hear her desperate crying, her childish voice asking for her mother.

It was worse than a torture.

It had to be a sort of divine punishment, he thought morosely. A cruel reward for every vow he had forsaken, a cruel answer for every time he had mocked the Seven, haughtily declaring their inexistence.

He gazed beyond the frame of the window, staring at the sapphire sea of Tarth, so blue, so deep, so...

 

 

_“Why for the Seven Hells do you have to go?”_

_“I’m not going to leave my men in trouble. They need me.”_

_“And what about us? Me and the girl. You can’t leave her, she is just a child, she will not understand.”_

_“It will be just for a while and your brother will be here to keep you company. You will be fine.”_

Somebody knocked on the door, pulling him out of his own mind.

“What is it?” he asked tiredly, pushing his hair away from his forehead. The door opened to reveal a little figure of a man. No, not just a _man_.

“Tyrion,” he said as he sat down in his chair.

Tyrion Lannister came slowly in, staring carefully at him. Jaime knew what his brother would find on his face: messy hair, deep livid shadows under his green eyes, pale unshaved cheeks and desperation in the fold of his mouth.

“You look, mh, _very tired_.”

“Oh, really?” Jaime asked sharply, shaking then his head in apology. “Forgive me,” he added, but Tyrion raised his hand, saying, “Never mind. Some news?”

Jaime shook his head again.

“Nothing. She’s just vanished. Nobody knows, nobody has seen or heard anything. Just _nothing_. But, tell me, Tyrion, how can a ship just disappear? How is it _possible_ that a storm comes  to shake the Narrow Sea and _nobody_ sees anything?”

His rage suddenly exploded as his arm swept off everything on the table. Pages, quills and some books flew away, crashing on the floor. Tyrion looked away, sighing vaguely. He perfectly understood Jaime’s desperation; he had lost a wife too, after all.

“Stay calm. Rage just doesn’t make you think good. I’m here to help you. We’ll find her,” Tyrion said, reaching for him just to hold his shoulder and squeeze it slightly. Jaime nodded morosely as he took a deep breath.

“Ignorance is killing me. To not know if she is alive or not, probably in need of help, maybe starving or freezing or... I can’t help but think about it, minute after minute, _day after day_. I think about her and everything I see is her body on some cliff.”

“Don’t. You should rather think about your little girl, instead of staying holed up in here. She needs you, brother.”

They stared at each other for a long moment before Jaime stood up and moved toward the door. He opened it, but he hesitated for a while.

“Gods are punishing me. For you, for Cersei, _for everything_ I’ve done.”

“There are no divine punishments, Jaime, just debts to pay.”

“And what about mine?”

Tyrion closed his eyes just for a second, curling his lips in the hint of a smile.

“Paid.”

 

 

_“Take care of her, Jaime.”_

_“She will be fine. We will be fine.”_

_Brienne smiled slightly, rising her hand to touch his cheek gently. Then, as if she was doing something wrong or improper, she looked around suspiciously and finally leaned forward to kiss his mouth softly, just a gentle, short, hesitating touch. Jaime, who never cared about, well,_ anything _, grabbed her hips and forced her to withdraw until her back hit the stack of cases behind her, to keep themselves hidden from indiscreet looks. He moved his mouth on hers, persuading her to open her lips a little, just to let his tongue hit hers. She groaned lightly, running her fingers through his hair just to pull him closer, as if she wanted that to go on forever. Not so far from them a horn sounded once, making them part quickly and stare at each other. Something that looked like pain and regret filled her blue eyes._

_“I have to go. Please, Jaime, take care of her. And of yourself, too.”_

_“I will. See you soon, my lady.”_

_“See you soon, ser.”_

“May I?”

The little girl raised her head up and a small smile played on her lips. Jaime took it as an assent and moved forward to sit down in front of her, cross-legged, slightly leaning forward.

“What are you doing, Joanna?”

Joanna, his five–years–old daughter, raised up her straw doll. He recognized that toy; Brienne had made it for her, not so long ago. And when he had asked her what she was doing, she had simply shrugged, saying something like, “I’m just killing time while Joanna is sleeping”. Jaime swallowed the hard lump in his throat and grabbed the toy, staring at it ruefully.

“Father?”

“Mh?”

“Where is mother?”

He finally looked at her, stretching his arm to cup his hand on her soft, warm cheek.

“Somewhere.”

“But she will come back, won’t she?” she asked almost painfully. Jaime couldn’t bear it and his arm surrounded her hips and pulled her toward – _against_ – him, hugging her little body as if his life depended on her. Then he plunged his head into her long, blonde hair, breathing in her delicious scent, something that smelled like sea, sun and flowers.

“Of course,” he finally said. “ _Of course_.”

 

 

_“My lord!” Podrick Payne went in without permission, scared and shocked._

_Jaime raised his head as his fingers left the dry quill on the papers._

_“Have you unlearned how to knock?” he asked wryly and a little annoyed._

_“I’m sorry, my lord, but... the captain... the storm-”_

_“Podrick,” Jaime said, stopping his incoherent babbling, “What are you trying to say?”_

_“Captain Sullas says there was a storm on the Narrow Sea.”_

_Jaime shrugged. “So?”_

_“My lord, it was where lady Brienne went to rescue her men.”_

_He froze. He felt his blood turning to ice in his veins, stopping every rational process._

_Stopping his heart too. He tried to breathe deeply, but it seemed the air in the room was not enough. His fingers pulled the collar of his cloak softly, as the light in the room started to fade out. His eyes flickered a little, and so did_ something _in his chest._

 _“Go... go to Sullas, tell him to send somebody_ right now _to look for my wife’s ship.”_

_Podrick nodded quickly and went away while Jaime clenched his fist._

Gods _, he thought_ , Gods, no.

 

 

Finally, Joanna fell asleep.

Jaime tucked her in, covering her pale neck. His fingers caressed her cheek lightly and pushed away her hair from her little, worried face. Looking at her was almost painful; there was so much of Brienne in her that he nearly couldn’t bear it. For the first time in those four – soon to be five  – days he dared to think about a life without Brienne. Leaning back against the headboard, he imagined himself raising his daughter alone, explaining to her that that was the way life worked and that the Gods were never merciful. He imagined himself in his big, empty, cold bed, stretching his arm next to him just to find the ghost of her strong, homely presence.

 _Enough_ , he thought as he stood up to go to his bedchamber. He hesitated on the doorstep, looking at his sleeping girl. He had never promised her that her mother would come back home, but he felt as if he had forsaken _another_ vow. The same one that Joanna silently forced him to take every time she looked at him in need of her mother. Closing the door, he understood he couldn’t wait anymore: his girl had to know that probably her mother would never come back. He was sure Joanna had _already_ caught it, she was a smart girl, but she also needed to hear it from his mouth.

When he finally arrived to his bedchamber he slowly sit down on the bed, swallowing again and again to untie the knot in his chest, the suffocating sense of loss. When he’d lost Cersei he had felt like the entire weight of the world had collapsed on his aching shoulders, forced him to lean forward and forward, until his back had cracked, leaving him forever broken. But now, now he felt like an earthquake was shaking the ground beneath his feet and making the ground start to crack and it made him fall in the deepest darkest hell. Cersei’s loss was a bright, blinding fire explosion, but Brienne’s was a slowly, painful, eternal lava flow.

Suddenly, something made him leave his own thoughts abruptly; a cold shiver gave him gooseflesh and he quickly turned around, opening his eyes wide.

That had to be an hallucination, a cruel joke played by his tired mind. Yet, he did not dare to close his eyes, as if doing so would have caused her to disappear again. So he stood still and almost not breathing.

She came to light from the shadows, sighing and smiling a little. “Is this a dream?” he whispered, wary and incredulous.

“Of course not. If it was, I would not be so _tired_.”

“What...? No. No. You are missing. You can’t really be _real_.”

“But I am,” she said as she moved toward him and sat next to him. Jaime shook his head no, keeping on staring at her.

_What the fuck is happening?_

Jaime stretched his hand to touch her shoulder slightly, just to prove himself she was actually real, sitting next to him. And, for the Seven, _she was_. The consistence of her flesh under his finger was so homely and real that it almost made him laugh hysterically.

“I’ve sent Pod  looking for you, to tell you I was here,” she said, looking him in the eye.

“I was in Joanna’s bedchamber,” he explained absently, staring at her as if she was an unexpected but joyful dream.

“Please, stop looking at me like that. I’m here, Jaime.”

He nodded as he tiredly rubbed his eyes. “Tell me,” he said. She sighed, pushing her hair back. It seemed that she was looking for the right words and he took advantage of it to study her face, searching for wounds or bruises, but all he found was relief and tiredness. He wanted to touch her ruined cheek, kiss it, kiss _her_ , _take her_. Arousal filled the blood in his veins and he cursed himself; that was _certainly_ not the right moment to think about it.

“I thought- I was _certain_ I was going to die. The storm came suddenly and we had time to do nothing. We were carried by the tide, we were _lost_. I remember nothing. When I awaked, I was on a shore near Storm’s End. It took so long to find a ship and come back home; we had no money, we were almost starving... I had to sell your necklace,” she added morosely, raising her hand to touch her empty neck, where she always used to wear his first gift.

“So I saved your life,” he said slightly mockingly. “Remember about it the next time you mean to refuse my gifts.”

Brienne lightly nodded, on her lips the hint of a smile.

“I want to see her,” she abruptly said and stood up, but he grabbed her hand, stopping her.

“Not now. Let her sleep. These days were... _hard_ , for her.”

She sat down again as she let him put his arm around her shoulders. Jaime trembled a little before he leaned forward to kiss her, his good hand cupped on her cheek to bring her closer, as he meant to hold her forever. Brienne sighed in relief and parted her lips to let his tongue touch hers. His arousal came back as he pushed her against the mattress, blocking her under his body. Suddenly, their motions became more frantic, more desperate, more clumsy, more violent, more needing, more _everything_. Their clothes ripped in the hurry to put them off their bodies and when they finally laid naked, her strong, pale body under his, Jaime felt the world was finally turning in the right sense.

“Never again,” he whispered in her ear while he took her. “ _Never again_.”

“Yes,” she agreed, groaned against his neck. “Never again.”

 

_So keep breathing_  
_'Cause I'm not leaving you anymore._  
  


 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Opening and final quotes by Nickelback, Far Away.


End file.
